


I Have Been Homesick For You Since We Met

by theshipsfirstmate



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, fathers and sons and all that, post-5x21 fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 20:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10929573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipsfirstmate/pseuds/theshipsfirstmate
Summary: post-5x21, Felicity watches Oliver’s press conference and has a talk with Thea.“It’s not time. Not just yet. But maybe soon. They’re not planets in orbit around each other, they’re comets scorching through constellations, alternating near misses on an inevitable collision course.”





	I Have Been Homesick For You Since We Met

_Title from “[A Father’s First Spring](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dsncq9hZg9AQ&t=NGUxMzg2ODdiMWY3YTc1MTc2ZjI0OGJkYzA5YTM5NGZiYTNiNTc2YSxRbGNxT0cyZg%3D%3D&b=t%3AiAw4tJIAalN1OvhWtUFPsQ&p=http%3A%2F%2Ftheshipsfirstmate.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F160766590794%2Farrow-fic-i-have-been-homesick-for-you-since-we&m=1)” by The Avett Brothers._

**I Have Been Homesick For You Since We Met (AO3)**

Oliver texts to tell her about the press conference, and somewhere in between reading his message and replying, Felicity’s slipped her heels back on and buzzed the doorman to hail a car. Next thing she knows, she’s at City Hall.

She enters the building, and knows the route to the briefing room by heart, but when she hits the lobby, her feet turn to lead and won’t carry her any further. She’s genuinely contemplating walking right back out the way she came when she catches sight of one of the wall-mounted TVs. Oliver is taking the podium and something in her chest still swells at the sight of him standing in front of the cameras, speaking to the city he’s given everything to protect.

The volume icon on the screen ticks up until she can hear his voice and after holding her breath for a long, heartbreaking moment when he admits that _“the allegations made against Robert Queen are true,”_ she turns around to see the friendly security guard at the front desk watching either her or the TV.

“Thanks, Lito.” The uniformed man gives her a familiar smile and a mock salute with the remote control.

“You going up, Ms. Smoak?” he asks. “I can print you a visitor pass.”

The question shouldn’t throw her for a loop, but it does. Oliver’s given dozens of these press conferences since taking office. Felicity used to love being in the room as he commanded it, watching him lead the city the way he was meant to, and feeling her heart take a stutter step every time he met her eyes on a particularly meaningful turn of phrase.

She hasn’t been to one since they split, and she’s almost certain it would be too much. She’s glad to have trusted that instinct when she hears Oliver continue.

_“It’s time to leave the past in the past, so that our children may inherit the Star City we’ve always dreamed of.”_

Felicity hears her words about his father echoed back in that line, but she can’t help but picture the school photo of William that she uncovered during her dark web deep dive to try and find where Oliver’s son and his mother had dropped off the grid. She’s spent the days since their harrowing entrapment in the bunker waiting for the other shoe to drop and avoiding the sting that comes when she thinks about how he’s chosen to trust her now that the dust has settled around the ruins of their life together, now that she’s apologized for walking out, now that he’s out of other options.

But that’s not the only thing that hurts.

She hadn’t been ready for kids, of that much she’s certain. She still isn’t. This work they do is only conducive to heartbreak, and she’s spent more than a few sleepless nights weighing the ethics of bringing more life into a world fraught with pain and destruction. Even still, in the face of every logical argument, Felicity’s come to realize that some subconscious part of her had believed that eventually, the two of them would hand down a legacy together.

There’s a hurricane raging inside her, but she still finds herself waiting in the lobby after the press have finished their questions and the local station switches back to regularly-scheduled programming. Mercifully, it’s not Oliver who happens upon her first in the exiting current of reporters, it’s Thea.

“Hey!” Felicity reaches out to hug the younger Queen, who relents after slightly longer pause than normal. “How are you?”

Thea feels like next to nothing in her arms, and when they pull back, Felicity can see that her time away hasn’t done anything to lighten the worrisome smudges underneath her eyes. She’s got that haunted look that creeps up on Oliver sometimes, and Felicity’s heart aches because she knows even less about how to fix this Queen.

“Feels like I should be asking you the same thing.” Thea replies, avoiding the question and Felicity’s eyeline. “Ollie told me about your bunker death trap lockdown. The chip’s OK?”

“Oh yeah, Curtis fixed me up in no time.” Oliver’s sister’s gaze returns to her with sharp focus then, and Felicity wonders if she’ll go as far as to press her on what she really wants to be asking. She’s slyer than Curtis, but often delights in pushing the two of them into awkward circumstances or making them answer for the longing looks that even Felicity’s growing weary of denying.

But today, Thea seems like she’s a million miles away. “You came for the speech?”

“Yeah.” It’s more of a breath than an answer as Felicity wrestles with the hot burn of embarrassment that stains her cheeks. She _had_ come for the speech, she just hadn’t quite made it there. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Thea says with false levity and an even more fraudulent pursed-lip smirk. “At least he’s not as sinister as my biological father, right? Not nearly.”

Rage like an adrenaline rush floods Felicity’s veins at the mere mention of Malcolm Merlyn.

“You’re _nothing_ like him. Either of them.” The words press through clenched teeth and her jaw only relaxes when she remembers someone who might be more convincing. “Did Oliver show you the video?”

“Yeah, he did. We talked about…a lot.” She heaves a sigh that tells Felicity that’s not an exaggeration. “About our dad, and… mostly about leaving the past in the past.”

This time, the reference tugs a hint of a smile at the corner of Felicity’s mouth and Thea must catch it. “That was one of yours, huh?”

“Not specifically,” she lies in the face of the other woman’s knowing grin. “We just had another one of those conversations about how maybe his burdens aren’t his alone to carry.”

It’s the same talk they’ve been having for years, Felicity thinks to herself. She tries to chip away at his walls with whatever tools she has handy, while Oliver stockpiles bricks and mortar on the other side.

“Talked him back into the suit _and_ back up on that podium,” Thea muses. “Feels familiar. Might as well get that ring back on your finger.”

“Thea, come on.” Felicity’s shocked by both her sharp, immediate response and her visceral reaction to the suggestion. It’s agonizing, thinking of what was, and what could have been. Even the flippant possibility of getting that happiness back sends an unwanted flash of hope through her that’s more lightning bolt than static spark.

“Come on, what?” Thea’s tone is less playful than her eye roll would indicate. “You’re being goddamn idiots, both of you.”

But Felicity’s still got electrical current running through her, and she stays quiet for a long enough moment that Thea heaves a sympathetic sigh. “Sorry.”

“It’s OK.” Felicity hates how small her voice can sound around members of this family. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

“No, I meant it,” Thea cuts back, with a tone that leaves no doubt about whether or not she’s Moira Queen’s daughter. “But I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I just… you guys are only wasting time, you know? Life is short, and if you have even a chance to be happy…”

“We’re not the same people.” Now it’s Felicity’s turn for a sharp interruption. “We’re not the same, we're so different from who we were when we were together, when he…”

The tears in her throat muck up the explanation she’s recited in her head countless times, and she clears it before articulating the most important point: “Too much has changed.”

“Some things are the same, though.” Thea Queen is the perfect storm of smart and stubborn, and it’s only fun when it’s not your boat that’s getting tossed through the whitecaps. “The most important thing is the same, and isn’t that all that matters?”

That’s the question Felicity’s been asking herself since she saw Oliver lying in an ARGUS medical bed, smiling at her after pulling them both from the jaws of certain death, when she realized it was futile to pretend that her heart wasn’t beating the same cadence it has been for five long, agonizing, wonderful years.

But there’s still no perfect answer to their biggest problems, and there never has been. They’ve tried once already, and failed so spectacularly that Felicity’s not sure she’d survive the drop again.

Then, just as her heart is turning itself over on nothing more than a memory, Oliver’s standing in front of her, and there isn’t an excuse in this world or any other that can measure up to the feeling in her chest when their eyes meet. His are rimmed with red and shiny with a mess of emotions that she’d be able to pick through one by one if she stared for long enough. She’s not certain what he sees in hers, but she has a pretty good guess.

He hugs his sister first, murmuring a few words in her ear – and Felicity tries not to notice how his figure makes Thea look impossibly thinner still – then turns to her almost on instinct, like he might wrap his arms around her too. He settles for cupping her elbow with a warm, calloused hand, and she says a silent prayer that her sigh isn’t embarrassingly audible.

“Felicity.” He’s saying her name like that again, like it’s a complete sentence. It seems to have started back up after their moment in the ARGUS facility, but she hadn’t realized just how long it had been until earlier in the bunker, when he laid his hand on her shoulder. “Thanks for coming.”

His name in return, and all her excuses, get stuck in her throat at the feeling of his thumb grazing her upper arm. So she says the next best thing that comes to mind: “It was a good speech.”

He gives her a little smile, like he knows what she’s trying to tell him. But before she finds out if that’s true, her phone buzzes with an alert from the new security system. “Someone’s in the bunker.”

A few more taps reveals the surveillance feed, and she breathes a sigh of relief upon seeing the familiar face. “It’s just Rene.”

“I told everyone we were laying low tonight.” Oliver says with a frown, which almost, _almost_ covers Felicity’s slip of the tongue.

“Speaking of fathers…” She trails off, but both Queen siblings turn to her with a genetically-resemblant furrowed brow, and wait with that infuriatingly practiced patience until she explains.

“I just… Quentin said he missed his custody hearing earlier.”

She turns her focus towards Oliver, anticipating the layers of his disappointed reaction. But they’re both taken aback when Thea vocalizes her own. “He _what_?”

Felicity’s genuinely not sure if she’s asking her to repeat herself. “Yeah, he just… didn’t show.”

“That idiot,” Thea’s seething, and it’s the most extreme emotion Felicity’s seen from her in months. “I’ll go.”

The confusion must be visible on their faces, because she offers a feeble excuse as she turns for the door. “I have to stop by anyway, I left the USB down there.”

She’s up to something, and Felicity hasn’t the faintest idea what. Thea’s always been the best of all of them at keeping secrets and this one sees to have come out of nowhere. “What was that?”

“I have no clue,” Oliver breathes, and she talks herself back into believing that she knows what he sounds like when he’s telling the truth. “Thea’s always been the mysterious one.”

She nods and he does too, quirking an eyebrow when the corners of her mouth twitch unconsciously.

And then it’s just the two of them. Again. They’ve been careful to avoid this kind of interaction since their night in the bunker loosened the cap on everything they’ve been keeping sealed up, but now it’s like someone’s shaking the bottle.

Felicity speaks first, almost as a reflex. “It was a good speech.”

Oliver grins, and she notices that the red in his eyes only makes the blue shine more brilliantly. “You said that already.” It’s hard to know what to do when he smiles at her like that, like things are easy and attainable, like the undeniable pull between them is enough. It’s hard to remember how to breathe, let alone control her rampant thoughts.

“Yeah, but I meant something different this time,” she admits, almost breathlessly, like she’s run a mile just to tell him the truth. “You’re a good son.”

Felicity can’t remember when they moved so close, but he takes her hands in his then, and the whole world freezes. “Can I tell you something?”

She should say no, even though it is his turn. She should take a step back. She should remind him that they’re standing in the lobby of City Hall and almost every member of the Star City press is milling through the public space. But instead, she just nods.

“I was standing up there just now, looking out at all the faces… looking for you.” The catch in her throat is audible and he squeezes her hands gently. “And I realized that speech might be the best thing I ever do in my father’s name.”

 _And it could be one of the last,_ she mentally adds, knowing there’s a good chance he’s thinking the same thing.

“But,” Oliver continues, and she can’t look away, hope looks so good on him, “it doesn’t have to be the best thing I ever do.”

It reminds Felicity of his words in the bunker, the confession that had spilled from his lips as the life seemed to drain out of him, and she’s hit with a sudden rush of blissful relief for the mere fact that, if nothing else, they’ve made it to today.

“You’re a good son, Oliver.” She tells him again because it’s true more than one time over, and because she knows he needs to hear it as much as possible. But she surprises even herself with the next part. “And you’re a good father.”

Her eyes have gone glossy with unshed tears, so much so that she can’t really tell if his are shimmering back. But he squeezes her hands again, and tugs her just that much closer and it forces out her most painful truth.

“I always knew you would be.”

Even in a perfect world, where the danger is conquerable and their secrets aren’t life-changing and there are more good days than bad, Felicity can admit that she’s still not sure she’d ever be ready for kids. But the thing is, she hadn’t been sure about marriage either, until Oliver Queen was holding out a diamond with a question in his eyes.

He’s standing in front of her now, just like he has been for years. But he doesn’t have anything to ask her, and she doesn’t have any answers.

“I should go.” She says that instead of a thousand other things. “It was a good speech.”

The tears trip down her cheeks then, and when he comes into focus, he’s looking at her like he used to. Just like he’s saying her name like he used to, just like he’s touching her like he used to. He’s looking at like he does when he wants to tell her that he loves her.

But when he opens his mouth to speak, she can’t let him.

“I know.” It’s not time. Not just yet. But maybe soon. They’re not planets in orbit around each other, they’re comets scorching through constellations, alternating near misses on an inevitable collision course.

“ _Felicity_.” There it is again. She has to go before the last vestiges of her willpower give out and she succumbs to something neither of them are ready for.

“It’s OK,” she tells him. For now, it’s enough. “I know.”


End file.
